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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24687511">Dragonfly</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fiddle_Faddle/pseuds/Fiddle_Faddle'>Fiddle_Faddle</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Denial of Feelings, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Feelings Realization, Flashpoint Didn't Happen (DCU), Gotham Knights Baseball Game, Hugs, M/M, Reality TV Marathon, Slow Burn, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, more cats than planned, non-explicit sexual situations</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 08:00:24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>14,267</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24687511</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fiddle_Faddle/pseuds/Fiddle_Faddle</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Damian had always been fond of his soulmark - the image on his back that rested between his shoulder blades. What he wasn’t so fond of, however, was Tim Drake. Damian had always been confident that Tim was nothing but a worthless waste of space. However, when Damian got an accidental glimpse at Tim's soulmark, he found himself forced to question everything he thought he knew about the older man. Plain old Tim Drake couldn't possibly his soulmate... could he?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tim Drake/Damian Wayne</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>414</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Dragonfly</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The Batcave had been still and silent for several hours, save for the fluttering of bat wings, the drip of water from stalactites, and the gentle hum of electronics. Rumbling from an approaching vehicle disturbed that peaceful silence, however, and the screech of tires coming to a halt shattered it like a storefront window in Gotham. The doors to the Batmobile had started to open even before the vehicle had come to a complete stop. Dick helped Damian out of it, leading him over to the medical ward where Alfred was ready and waiting to assist.</p><p>Patrol had been mostly quiet, until Damian was wrapping up for the night and Killer Croc (who had only gotten tougher and meaner with age) took him by surprise. By the time Dick had arrived to offer back up, Damian had successfully apprehended the man but not without a few cracked ribs and what was probably a broken wrist. </p><p>Dick sat Damian down on the cot next to Alfred and set about trying to help him remove his suit. Damian stopped him.</p><p>“Grayson,” Damian warned.</p><p>Dick huffed. “I wish you’d let me help.”</p><p>Damian just raised one eyebrow, and Dick gave in and left the medical ward, pointedly pulling the curtains closed behind himself. Damian rolled his eyes at his dramatics, it wasn’t that he didn’t want Dick’s help, and Dick knew that. It was just that he wanted to avoid allowing people to see the image that covered his back, his soulmark, unnecessarily. </p><p>It might seem old fashioned, but Damian was firmly of the opinion that a soulmark should be something private, seen by his soulmate and only his soulmate. After all, every single set of soulmates shared an image that permanently decorated a part of their body. Each image was unique and had personal meaning. To share that intimacy with an outsider seemed like a violation to Damian. </p><p>In contemporary western society, however, people were less concerned about keeping their soulmarks covered up, especially the younger generation. Soulmark parties were commonly thrown where people would purposefully put as much attention on their soulmark as possible in hopes of being able to find the person who matched them. Club nights, house parties, and speed dating all focused on revealing soulmarks. Damian felt this was rather brazen and foolish. He would much prefer the more traditional route: getting to know a person, forming a natural connection with them, and then - once he had gotten to know them and thought they could be soulmates - describing their soulmark to confirm whether or not they had a matching one. Only when he had confirmed that they had matching soulmarks would he finally allow them to see each other’s marks.</p><p>Once, a couple years back, Damian thought that Colin might be his soulmate. He had broached the subject of soulmarks carefully, only for Colin to tell him that his soulmark was on his ankle, not his back like Damian’s. They had still dated for a while afterward anyway, neither of them willing to let go of a good thing. After all, it wasn’t uncommon for people to never meet their soulmate and go on to form lifelong relationships with someone else, instead. A small percentage of people didn't even have a soulmark. It wasn’t until months later that the two of them ended things amiably, deciding that they were better off as friends. Then, Colin had found his soulmate and Damian was more than happy for him (if not a little jealous of him at times). </p><p>Due to medical necessity, Alfred was the only one allowed to see Damian’s back, besides his father, because he knew the butler would remain tactful and respectful of Damian’s privacy. Other than Alfred, Damian took great care to never let his back be seen by anyone. He’d even managed to keep it hidden through years of emergency showers that were commonplace when crime fighting in a city like Gotham, where spraying people with harmful toxins was a common hobby.  </p><p>Weirdly enough, it was Jason who agreed with Damian’s views on soulmarks. Or at least Damian suspected as much. He did always make sure the soulmark on his hip was covered and Damian had overheard a conversation between him and Dick that implied that was the case. Given the man’s affinity for classical literature, it really wasn’t too surprising. </p><p>Damian's father, on the other hand, made sure to keep the soulmark on his chest hidden specifically to keep the media off his back. It wasn’t exactly impossible for people to fake soulmarks, and if power hungry individuals found out what his looked like they would have a field day. Tim was much the same way.</p><p>Cassandra and Stephanie didn’t seem to care one way or another. They never really went out of their way to show off their soulmarks - matching ones on their shoulders - but neither did they seem to take great pains to hide them either.</p><p>Dick, however, was different. He loved to show off the soulmark on his wrist. He believed it was a symbol of love and that it shouldn’t remain hidden away. He was never one to shy away from showing his affection, and to him his soulmark was just another extension of that. He only took steps to make sure it was hidden when he was Nightwing. However, while he understood and respected Damian’s decision to not show his soulmark, he still found it frustrating when that decision prevented him from being there for Damian. And he always made sure Damian was perfectly aware of his feelings.  </p><p>Damian sighed in exasperation, wincing as it tugged at his ribs. Alfred glanced over at him, looking like he was about to say something dry, yet insightful. Damian interrupted him, “I know, I know. He only wants to help. I understand, I just wish he was not so… so…”</p><p>“Insufferable, sir?”</p><p>“Yes, that,” Damian agreed, frowning. Alfred hummed in thought but left it at that and turned back to the medical supplies. </p><p>Alfred had finished with Damian’s ribs and was mostly done with his wrist, when there was the sound of footsteps outside the medical ward. Damian immediately reached for his robe and awkwardly pulled it on, just in case. A moment later he heard Tim’s voice asking, “Alfred? Are you still in there with Damian?”</p><p>“Yes. We’ll be finished in just a moment. Did you need something?”</p><p>“Only a couple stitches. I can wait, though.”</p><p>“Tt, come in, Drake.” </p><p>The curtains were pulled aside and Tim walked through. He had changed out of his Red Robin suit and was now only wearing an over-sized t-shirt (most likely one of Dick's) and a pair of compression shorts. Damian resolutely ignored the rush of heat in his veins at the sight of Tim’s partially bare legs, slightly regretting allowing him to come in (ever since he had hit puberty, Damian had felt an unwanted attraction to the older man that he just couldn’t shake). It wasn’t until Tim turned to close the curtain again that he noticed the shorts were torn on one leg, revealing a jagged gash on the back of Tim’s thigh that was bleeding sluggishly.  </p><p>At the sight of the knife wound on Tim’s leg, Damian felt a tightness in his chest, followed by a rush of anger and annoyance. Damian had always felt oddly possessive over Tim whenever he came back from patrol injured. He didn’t care that he was hurt, per se, but he did care that someone <em>else</em> had hurt him. It was like someone had used his punching bag without asking first. Rude. </p><p>Granted, Damian didn’t try as hard nowadays to physically harm Tim, but still, it was the principle of the matter. Even if he and Tim somehow became best friends forever (perish the thought), he would still consider them nemeses. </p><p>“Getting slow are you, Drake?”</p><p>“Yeah, and you’re just in here for what? A cough drop?” Tim rolled his eyes. “Could you not be obnoxious for like five minutes so I can stitch this up and be on my way?”</p><p>“You will do no such thing,” Alfred said. Tim turned to look at him in shock and confusion. “You may be almost as adept at twisting yourself into a pretzel as Master Richard, but doing so to reach that wound will only result in sloppy stitches. Wait a moment while I finish up with Master Damian and I will be right with you.” </p><p>Alfred’s tone allowed for no argument, so Tim did as he was told. Damian averted his eyes when Tim turned and knelt down to pull out the supplies for stitches and got started with disinfecting his wound. Instead, he focused on Alfred who was finishing up with his wrist, all the while doing his level best at ignoring his body’s reaction to the bane of his existence. He refused to allow Tim to get under his skin that way, he already made his blood boil just fine as it was.</p><p>Even at twenty years old, now muscular (though, to his chagrin, he would never be as muscular as his father) and over six feet tall, Damian's feelings of resentment toward Tim remained. Though they had transformed over the years into something less volatile, more matter-of-fact, he stubbornly held onto them. In his eyes, Tim was still unworthy of his place.</p><p>“Now, Master Damian,” Alfred said, finished with Damian’s wrist and preparing Tim’s stitches. “It will be at least a month, at the <em>very </em>least mind you, before your injuries heal-”</p><p>“But Pennyworth-”</p><p>“You know better than to interrupt me.” Alfred leveled his chastising glare number ninety-two at Damian. Once Damian looked appropriately shamefaced, Alfred continued. “As I was saying, you are not to put any strain on your wrist or ribs. You will only make it worse and find yourself off duty for a longer period of time. I do believe that your father would agree with me that you should remain benched until you are appropriately healed.”</p><p>Damian frowned but nodded in acquiescence, resolutely ignoring the sympathetic look on Tim’s face. He left the medical ward, heading sullenly to bed.</p><p> </p><p>Since he was exiled to bed rest, Damian found himself unsure of what to do with his time, besides spending it with his various animals. Alfred the Cat was particularly pleased by all the attention he was getting, though a little miffed at not being allowed to lay on top of him. Damian was also able to spend more time with the bats in the cave, examining them for any injuries or illnesses. One particularly large and friendly bat - named Batbat of course - had taken to resting on Damian’s head when he spent time in the cave. </p><p>His original plan for the month was to sneak out past Alfred’s watchful eye; it would have been difficult, but he had been confident he could do it if he was careful. However, his father had arrived back home after completing a mission with the Justice League. When he heard about Damian’s injuries, he agreed wholeheartedly with Alfred’s assessment that Damian should remain benched (as if his father never went on patrol while injured, himself - the hypocrite). Damian knew he couldn’t sneak by both Alfred <em>and </em>his father without one of them finding out, so he was forced to comply with their wishes. </p><p>About halfway into Damian's exile, Tim ended up staying at the manor, rather than his converted theater house. One of his cases intersected with something Bruce was investigating. For the sake of convenience, Tim was staying in his old room at the manor so that he and Bruce could work together. Damian had taken to keeping himself entertained by bothering Tim.</p><p>That night, Damian hovered behind Tim while he was working in the cave, criticizing everything he was doing and suggesting he do exactly what he was just about to do before he could do it. For Tim’s part, he was doing an incredible job of ignoring Damian. It wouldn't last forever, though. And Damian wanted to find that breaking point. </p><p>"The suspect was clearly five foot eight and nine tenths, not five foot nine, moron."</p><p>Tim growled in frustration (there it was), spinning around in his chair to glare at Damian. "Isn't it past your bedtime?"</p><p>"Isn't it past time for you to retire?"</p><p>"I'd retire if I had a decent replacement, but unfortunately there's just you."</p><p>“Tt. I’m not your replacement, I’m the upgrade,” Damian smirked. Tim opened his mouth to retort, but Barbara chose that moment to appear on screen and summon Tim to give Stephanie some back up for a problem in midtown. Tim saved what he had been working on and, with a final glare Damian’s way, headed for his bike and sped out of the cave.</p><p>With Tim gone, Damian had nothing else to do. Batbat was off hunting for food or whatever it was that bats did and Alfred the Cat had wandered off to who knows where.</p><p>Deciding to go for an old standby, Damian went up to his room and pulled out his sketchbook, thankful that it wasn't his drawing hand that was broken. He flipped through it a bit, ignoring how many sketches there were of Tim (Tim's glare, Tim smiling at someone who wasn't Damian, Tim stretching, etc.), and stopped for a moment to look at a particular drawing. It was of a large circular shape, like a mandala, made up of ginkgo leaf patterns and intricate lines in red, black, green, and gold. Overlapping the whole mandala, was a large red and black dragonfly.</p><p>This was the very same image that was a permanent part of his back, colors shining bright and crisp even over his scars. The same image would be in the same place on his soulmate’s body. It was quite a large and detailed soulmark, which made it all the more special to Damian. He had recreated it in his sketchbook many times over the years; the perfect form of meditation when he felt antsy or overwhelmed. </p><p>Turning to a new page, Damian picked up his pencil and started absentmindedly sketching as he thought. He had been thinking about his soulmark quite frequently as of late. He may have only been twenty years old, with plenty of time left to find his soulmate, but he still worried that he wouldn't. </p><p>Never in a million years would he admit it, but he used to daydream about meeting them when he was younger, after he had read a book about them. In the League of Assassins, soulmates weren't very common, but the pairs that did exist made perfect combat partners. Having that kind of connection with another person, Damian always figured, would make his soulmate and him an unstoppable force, since Damian was sure that his soulmate would <em>have</em> to be someone as formidable as himself (which was part of the reason why he thought Colin might have been his soulmate). He had spent a lot of time as a kid fantasizing about what his partner would be like: what they would look like, how they would act, how they would fight, the whole nine yards. </p><p>Nowadays, however, he didn't really care who they were or what they looked like. He was getting impatient and just wanted to meet them. It was a mystery he could wait to solve. </p><p>As he was lost in thought, the new sketch that he had started took form. Staring back at him from his sketchbook was another likeness of Tim. Damian scoffed at himself. He would like to pretend that he was not in the habit of subconsciously sketching Tim while his mind wandered, but at this point he had done it enough that he really couldn’t deny it. </p><p>Quickly (but carefully enough to not ruin the image) Damian turned the page to start another sketch, determined to draw something that was decidedly not Tim related in any way, shape, or form. Though their relationship had mellowed out ever so minutely over the years, his predecessor's existence still irritated him beyond measure. The very fact that Tim was unfairly gorgeous was on the top of the list of ‘things about Tim Drake that annoy Damian.’ It was a long list. Interestingly enough, it was also on the list of ‘things Damian secretly likes about Tim Drake.’ That was a much shorter list. </p><p>Damian's pencil fell from his fingers as he was struck by the realization that his thoughts had been revolving around Tim rather frequently as of late. He paused in thought for a moment before shrugging it off, contributing it to the fact that Tim had been staying at the manor. It had been several months since the last time he did, so this was the most he'd seen the older man in a while. Turning his attention back down to what he had been sketching, he was pleased to see the rough shape of his favorite gargoyle, exactly like he had intended. </p><p>Before he could continue working on the sketch, there was an insistent and loud meow to his right. Damian huffed out a laugh at Alfred the Cat, who had decided to show himself just in order to demand feeding. Damian closed his sketchbook and went to appease the fussy feline. </p><p> </p><p>It was about a week before Damian would be cleared for patrol again, that he found himself alone in the Cave. Out of pure boredom and desperation to do something productive, he was going through old paper files of closed cases and adding them to the digital files. Suddenly, the roar of a motorcycle came tearing through the cave. Over in the garage area, Tim appeared on his bike, covered in what appeared to be some sort of viscous liquid. He pulled his helmet off and started on the rest of his uniform as he headed straight for the emergency showers.</p><p>As he passed Damian, he mumbled something about ‘stupid gooey aliens.’ Damian turned to look at Tim, insulting remark right on the tip of his tongue, but it died before he could even utter a single syllable. Damian’s eyes widened as he took in what he saw. Tim had pulled his uniform down to his waist, leaving his back completely bare. Damian got a perfect view of the image there, an image that he was intimately familiar with: mandala shape, ginkgo leaf pattern, dragonfly. His soulmark.  </p><p>Tim had the same soulmark. </p><p>Tim was his soulmate. </p><p>Damian's jaw went slack, then clenched shut. He turned back to the computer screen, fuming with a rage he couldn't unleash without making the source that inspired it known. </p><p>This was <em>not</em> how he wanted this to happen. It was supposed to be romantic, dammit. He wasn’t supposed to <em>accidentally</em> find his soulmate. </p><p>And it was Tim no less. Tim, who hated him, who infuriated him. Tim, who had never accepted Damian’s rightful place as his father’s true heir.</p><p>...Tim, who he’d been preoccupied with since he was ten years old. Tim, whose face filled his sketchbooks. Tim, whose skin made his heart race.</p><p>Fuck.</p><p>No, hell no. This was <em>not</em> happening. Damian refused to accept it. Timothy <em>fucking</em> Drake was <em>not</em> his soulmate.</p><p> </p><p>For a few days, Damian refused to acknowledge what he'd seen, trying his best to avoid Tim. If he believed (or disbelieved in this case) hard enough, it might just all go away. After all, he must have been mistaken; his and Tim's soulmarks just looked similar. Plenty of people had mandala soulmarks, didn’t they? There was no way they were the <em>exact </em>same. </p><p>Damian dove head first into his work in an effort to distract himself. The cool, damp, dim isolation from the world that the Batcave provided was the perfect place for him. Just what he needed. When everyone was gone, he curled up in the computer chair, wrapped up in a big cardigan with drinks and snacks, going over current cases, cold cases, solved cases. Basically anything he could get his hands on. His wrist and ribs were still healing, so he couldn't take to the streets, but he made do as best he could. By the end of the week, he'd solved a rough dozen cold cases for the police. </p><p>However, despite his efforts, with Tim staying at the manor that was all easier said than done. Whenever he couldn't avoid seeing Tim, his brain helpfully provided the image of his back, displaying the soulmark. At this point he practically had it seared into his eyeballs: the leaves, the dragonfly, the intricate lines, the way the image was nestled in between his shoulder blades - just like on Damian's own body. </p><p>His dreams were plagued with flashes of Tim's bare back, as well as his bare front. He awoke one morning, hard and panting, with Tim’s name on his lips. Hazy images swirled in his mind - himself lying on his stomach, Tim on top of him pressing his lips to his soulmark. Blood pounded in his veins in the dream and in reality.</p><p>He growled in frustration and adamantly refused to touch himself, no matter how badly he ached. Not that he hadn't done so before to thoughts of Tim, but doing so <em>now</em> felt like giving in. </p><p>He spent the rest of the day feeling off, like he was trapped. Until that night, finally sick of feeling stifled in his usual sanctuary, Damian stormed out of the Cave in a fit of frustration (startling Batbat as he went). He needed to get out of the Cave. Out of the Manor. Just <em>out</em>. He may have been benched from patrol, but that didn't mean he was benched from life. </p><p>He stomped up to his room, and threw his closet door open. If he was going to go out, he didn't want to be recognized by the paparazzi. He'd have to put together a quick disguise. He grabbed some clothes out of his costume section, pulled them on, and looked into the mirror. One pair of patched up skinny jeans, plus a ripped up t-shirt for a band he had never listened to and a spiked leather jacket later, and he was looking nothing like himself.</p><p>He was about to put on a wig and a couple fake piercings when he realized it. Tim tended to dress in a similar way on the rare occasions he went out to have fun; he enjoyed punk concerts and other alternative music like that. Damian had overheard him saying to Dick that dressing the part was half the fun, a way to express the creativity he couldn't in any other part of his life. </p><p>Damian immediately struggled out of those clothes - cursing his wrist and ribs - and stripped down to his underwear again. He needed something else, something that wouldn't make him think of Tim. He pulled out a floral patterned button up, dark brown pants, and a bomber jacket instead. Then added a brown wig and brown contacts, black framed glasses, and a little bit of makeup to top it all off. That was safe enough, he didn't look like himself or Tim. He grabbed his keys and hopped into one of the less conspicuous cars. </p><p>For a while, he was actually just content to drive around Bristol. He stuck to back roads at first, little lonely stretches that seemed to go nowhere in particular, playing Camille Saint-Saëns's Danse Macabre on repeat. Soon enough, however, he found himself heading into the city (pointedly avoiding the East End). As he was driving through Midtown, he saw a club advertising 'Soulmark Nite.' He scoffed while driving past, but two blocks later he was still thinking about it, a sense of morbid curiosity overcoming him. He made a U-turn.</p><p>It wouldn't hurt to just… take a peek. Maybe he <em>was</em> wrong, maybe Tim didn't have a matching soulmark… maybe someone in there did. It wasn't how he wanted things to go, but anything was better at that point. </p><p>Inside the club, he stuck to the shadows, just observing (and trying to ignore the godforsaken noise that masqueraded as music). Much of the club was dark, lit only by DMX lights, but a large room off to the side was more brightly lit, clearly intended for couples to examine each other's soulmarks. He watched as one couple nearby, two women a few years older than him, looked at each other's left wrists; it was hard to tell in the dark, but they both seemed to have matching hummingbirds. The shorter of the two grabbed the taller one's hand in excitement and dragged her over to the well lit room. </p><p>Damian's eyes wandered back to the crowded dance floor, seeking out people who had their backs bared; a man with a trail of vines, a woman with some sort of skeletal figure, an androgynous person with a silhouette of a cathedral. He stood there for a long time, but there wasn’t a single mandala to be found. </p><p>Frustrated, he left the club and looked for a different one. He found one near Chinatown, advertising it's own soulmark night. It was set up like the first club: dance floor, DMX lights, well lit room to the side. Damian found another shadowy corner to observe from, seeing much the same as before; a woman with a floral bouquet, a man with an ornamental fan, an androgynous person with three peacock feathers. At one point, Damian's heart jumped, there was a man with a dragonfly on his back. He almost approached him before he realized it was <em>just</em> a dragonfly, nothing else, wasn't even the right color. There was still not a single mandala to be seen.</p><p>"Hey, handsome." A voice said from beside him. "You look overdressed. Not here to show off your soulmark?"</p><p>Damian looked over his shoulder to find a man gazing intently at him. He was several years older, about half a foot shorter, thin with pale skin and dark hair. Damian was instantly reminded of Tim, and was exasperated with himself for it. Especially since, while this man may have shared some superficial similarities, he actually looked nothing like Tim. His thin build was more on the scrawny, malnourished side, rather than lean and muscular; his hair was wavy and fluffy, rather than straight and silky; his eyes were dark brown instead of midnight blue. Most importantly, this man's soulmark was not a mandala on his back, but an eyeball with a bright green iris on his chest, peering out through his mesh shirt. </p><p>"No," Damian grunted, hoping to brush the man off. It didn't work. </p><p>"You wanna get out of here, then?" He asked, creeping closer. "Turn my unlucky night into a lucky one?" </p><p>He reached out to touch Damian's arm, but Damian caught his wrist before he could. "I don't think so," he said to the man's pissy expression and walked away, slipping out of the club, unable to tolerate it anymore. The whole endeavor had been a waste of time. Whose terrible idea was it, anyway? Certainly not his. He hopped back into his car and headed home.</p><p>In a fit of desperation, Damian went into the Batcomputer's security footage, finding an image of Tim's soulmark. He was determined to find some minute difference from his that he could latch onto. But the more he looked, the more his heart dropped into his stomach. The ginkgo leaves were the same, the dragonfly was the same, the colors were the same. Every single intricate line was a perfect copy. He closed out of the security feed in aggravation.</p><p>There was no denying it, as much as he tried, as much as he wanted, he couldn't ignore reality any longer. </p><p>Tim was his soulmate. </p><p>Tim and Damian were soulmates.</p><p>His blood rushed in his ears, his good hand curled into a fist. How dare Tim do this to him? Not only did he rob him of his birthright, but now his soulmate, too? If Tim had just minded his own damn business instead of butting in where he didn't belong, maybe the two of them could have met under better circumstances. Maybe then Damian would have gotten the soulmate he deserved, instead of the worthless usurper. </p><p>Not for the first time, Damian found himself lamenting that he and Colin hadn't been soulmates. His life would have been so much easier, if that had been the case. At the very least he wouldn't be stuck in the mess he was currently in. He had been so excited back when he had thought that they might be destined to be together. </p><p>As lost as Damian was in his memories, he didn't notice Tim walk into the Batcave.</p><p>"Hey." Damian startled at Tim's voice, which sounded amused. "Nice disguise. Or are you getting style advice from Dick?"</p><p>"Better than the dumpster you get yours from," Damian retorted automatically. </p><p>Tim rolled his eyes, taking a sip of his coffee. "Are you doing undercover work? I thought you were still benched?"</p><p>Damian grit his teeth. This was the last thing he needed right now, Tim asking him asinine questions, standing there like he wasn't the bane of Damian's existence. The cause of all his problems. "Why do <em>you</em> care, Drake?"</p><p>"You really shouldn't go out if you're still hurt. Even undercover work is risky," Tim said, pretty eyes full of concern. He stepped closer, too close.</p><p>"I don't need your opinion," Damian sneered, knocking the travel mug out of Tim's hand and spilling lukewarm coffee everywhere.  </p><p>"What the fuck, asshole?!" Tim growled, shaking the coffee from his hand. </p><p>Damian said nothing, just stormed out of the cave for the second time that night. Behind him he heard Tim mutter, “Why do I even bother?”</p><p>Upstairs, Damian started pacing around his bedroom, throwing off his disguise, full of adrenaline but no way to let it out. He refused to go back to the Cave that night, so he couldn't make use of the training room. Not that he could even use the punching bag like he wanted with his wrist still healing. He considered taking Ace for a run, but the dog was getting too old to keep up with Damian's pace, even when he was injured. Besides, going for a run meant going downstairs and what if Tim came up from the Cave? Damian threw himself into his desk chair, pulled his sketchbook toward him, and opened it to a fresh page. Drawing was always something he used to calm down, for meditation.</p><p>...Except, he usually would draw his soulmark; the intricacy of the lines kept his attention on the task at hand. He couldn't do that now, not when that was part of the problem in the first place. He growled in frustration, pushing the sketchbook away and fisting his good hand in his hair. Yet another thing that Tim had tainted, had <em>ruined</em> for him. </p><p>"Fuck," he muttered to himself, turning his head when he heard a soft little meow next to him.</p><p>He looked down to see Alfred the Cat gazing up at him, almost questioningly. Damian huffed out a breath and leaned back in his chair, letting the cat hop up into his lap. Alfred immediately presented his belly in silent demand for belly rubs. Rolling his eyes, but thankful for the distraction, Damian gave in to the cat’s not so subtle demand for attention. The rumbling purr that resulted was more than enough to finally cool his anger and frustration.</p><p> </p><p>For the next few days, Damian simmered in his anger. After their little altercation in the Cave, Tim hadn't bothered trying to interact with Damian, much to his relief. He was left to his own devices - until he was ambushed by Cassandra and Stephanie. He had been walking down the hall outside his bedroom one afternoon when he found himself suddenly flanked by the two women. </p><p>"What's the matter, grumpy?" Stephanie asked, linking their arms together. </p><p>"Nothing," Damian grunted.</p><p>Cassandra just gave him a look that said she wasn't buying it. </p><p>Damian huffed. "It is none of your concern."</p><p>"Fine, be that way." Stephanie shrugged. "But we're not gonna let you brood all day for the fourth time in a row. Leave that to your father." </p><p>She grabbed his uninjured wrist and started steering him down the hall. She wasn't using any particular force to do it, so he could have broken away easily, but he chose not to. They clearly had no intentions of coercing him into talking about things he didn't want to talk about, therefore he was willing to humor them. Besides, whatever plans they had for him might have been the distraction he needed.</p><p>"Where are you taking me?"</p><p>"To Coruscant," Stephanie joked.</p><p>"Theater room," Cassandra piped up. "Bad reality show marathon."</p><p>Damian <em>did</em> like to mock the foolish people that participated in some of those shows. "Did Alfred make popcorn?"</p><p>"Of course," Cass smirked. "Who do you take us for?"</p><p>Damian sighed his most dramatic sigh. "Fine. If I must, I guess I shall join you."</p><p>He got two pleased grins in return.</p><p>While maybe not the exact distraction he needed, it did turn out to be a good one nonetheless. He curled up in one of the big armchairs in the middle of the room with an overfilled bowl of popcorn. They burned through several episodes of <em>Fear</em> <em>Factor</em>, picking apart the stunts; a couple episodes of <em>American</em> <em>Ninja</em> <em>Warrior</em>, joking that that was how Ra's found new recruits; and only a single episode of <em>Jersey</em> <em>Shore</em> (Damian couldn't stand anymore of that show than that).</p><p>It stopped being such a good distraction when Stephanie wanted to switch to a dating show. Damian would have vetoed the idea, but he didn't want to draw too much attention to himself lest they figure him out. So, he ended up stuck watching <em>Secret Soulmate</em> - a dating show where one contestant was sent on three dates with different people. One of the dates had a matching soulmark that was covered up, so the contestant had to guess which date was their soulmate. If they guessed wrong, then they would have to choose between their real soulmate or the person they thought was their soulmate.</p><p>Damian guessed it could have been worse. One of them could have suggested watching <em>Viva</em> <em>La</em> <em>Bam</em>. He didn’t need an even more blatant reminder of Tim, or for anyone to suggest he come watch with them. It was also fortuitous that Tim had made sure no recordings of <em>Super Vision, </em>the reality show Young Justice had done, were still in existence. Otherwise he was certain Stephanie would have made them watch that (Damian had seen pictures of Tim's Mr. Sarcastic persona, he didn't think he could handle it right now).</p><p>He mostly tried to ignore it when Stephanie started the dating show, only making the occasional disparaging remark so that Cass and Steph wouldn’t get concerned or suspicious. He let his mind wander for a while, thinking about his injuries. Alfred was going to examine him again the next evening and if everything looked fine, he would be allowed to start his full training regimen again. He was more than ready to get back on the streets, where he belonged. Taking down criminals was the distraction he really needed, more than anything else.</p><p>Despite his wandering mind, however, Damian soon found himself drawn into the show. On the screen, a male contestant was having an absolutely <em>disastrous </em>date with another man. The contestant, a blond man named Chad, and his date, a man with green hair named Skyler, were struggling to find a topic to talk about. So far they had disagreed on sports, music, and movies, and didn’t share a single hobby.</p><p>“This is… painful to watch,” Cassandra said, shaking her head as Chad awkwardly sipped at his drink in lieu of responding to Skyler's attempt at further conversation.</p><p>Damian watched as the show cut to a confessional with Chad, who was saying, “There is no way this man could be my soulmate, we have nothing in common. I mean, what’s even up with his hair? Punk is dead, honey.”</p><p>Stephanie scoffed. “This guy’s an idiot.” Damian hummed in agreement.</p><p>The scene changed again, this time to a confessional with Skyler. “We didn’t hit it off very well. I would be surprised if we turned out to be soulmates. But if we do, I guess shared interests aren’t everything.”</p><p>“Aw, he’s sweet,” Stephanie enthused. “He deserves way better than Mr. Narrow Minded.”</p><p>The next two dates that Chad went on were far more successful. He got on quite well with another man that enjoyed the same pretentious films as he did. Then, on his last date, he really hit it off with a woman who worked in the same field as him and shared a love for playing tennis. Their date lasted the longest, as the two of them spent hours talking to each other. When the dates were all over and it was time for Chad to guess who his soulmate was, Damian wasn’t surprised that his guess was the woman.</p><p>However, she was not his soulmate. It was revealed that Skyler, in fact, was Chad’s soulmate. The two of them bared their left forearms to reveal matching black rabbits. </p><p>After several gratuitous shots of everyone’s shocked expressions, the scene cut to the greenroom where Chad was pacing back and forth, clearly deep in thought. Clips from Skyler’s confessional played on the T.V. screen in front of him as he contemplated his decision. Eventually everyone gathered back together for Chad’s final choice. </p><p>Despite himself, Damian was on the edge of his seat, waiting impatiently to see who Chad would decide on. </p><p>In the end, Chad chose Skyler, stating that he had judged him too quickly on outward appearance. He admitted that he should have given him a better shot instead of just assuming that they couldn’t have been soulmates based on first impression alone. He apologized for his behavior and asked Skyler if he would be willing to give him a second chance. “We’re soulmates, so there must be some potential there, right? It might take a bit of work to find, but I’m willing to look.”</p><p>Skyler smiled at Chad's apology. “The fact that you recognize your mistake and that you are willing to make up for it shows a lot of character,” he said. “I’m willing to give you a chance.”</p><p>As the show ended - the people on screen cheering and congratulating the new couple - Damian found himself mulling over the last exchange between the two men. Chad had seemed quite confident that there must have been potential between him and Skyler, despite their rocky start, and that they just had to find it. Was that the same in his and Tim’s case? If he and Tim were soulmates… did that mean there was some hidden potential between them? Had Damian overlooked something about Tim? Was there more to him that Damian had just dismissed? </p><p>He had a horrible sneaking suspicion that he might be the Chad of his own situation.</p><p>If Damian wanted to know why he and Tim were supposedly meant for each other, he was going to have to investigate further. He thought he knew everything there was to know about Timothy Drake, but… maybe there was more to him than meets the eye.</p><p> </p><p>The next day, Damian was cleared for duty again, but only after being thoroughly guilted by Alfred into taking it easy and going on a short patrol. Damian used the spare time afterward, when everyone else was still out or otherwise occupied, to start investigating the Tim situation. He carefully hacked into Tim’s comm unit and domino mask camera, to observe him on his own patrol. At first, what he saw was nothing impressive, just Tim taking on the typical thugs and gangs that infested the Gotham streets. Pretty standard, boring stuff, no huge revelations to be found. He almost closed out of the video feed, confident that there wasn’t going to be anything of interest, until something caught his attention.</p><p>Tim had just finished up with a would-be carjacker, when the faint sound of a muffled sob reached him. Tim followed the sound around the next corner to find a young child curled up in an alleyway, crying into a stuffed bear. Damian cringed internally. He hated coming across little kids in the field, comforting them never came naturally to him. He had gotten better at it over the years, but it was still something he struggled with. </p><p>Tim did a quick scan of the area, looking for possible nearby threats, before stepping out of the shadows. The child startled at the sound of his purposeful boot step, clutching the bear tighter as he turned to look at Tim. </p><p>“R-red Robin?” The little boy (Damian assumed) stuttered, eyes widening. </p><p>“That’s me,” Tim answered, voice low and soft. The perfect ‘speaking to a victimized child’ voice that Damian never quite perfected. “What’s your name?”</p><p>“Tony,” The boy muttered, shuffling his feet and looking down at his bear. "This is Danny," he said, a little louder, holding the bear out for Tim to see. </p><p>"It's nice to meet you both." Tim smiled, stepping closer and crouching down. "Why are you out so late?"</p><p>Tony sniffled, wiping at his eyes. "My s-sister locked me out.” He pointed at one of the apartment doors of the building next to them. </p><p>“That wasn't very nice of her,” Tim said. “Do you want me to talk to her for you?”</p><p>Tony nodded enthusiastically in agreement, lifting his arms in the universal ‘pick me up’ motion. Damian watched, almost in awe, at how easily Tim scooped the little boy up with no hesitation or discomfort. It reminded him of the times he had seen his father comfort a distressed child. It also reminded him of the first time he had properly met Tim, how he had thought Tim had been so condescending, treating him like just another child. But… he <em>had </em>been just a child, looking back on it. Not that much older than this little boy was. Tim had tried to be welcoming, and Damian just brushed him aside (...and off the T-Rex). He cringed a bit at the memory. </p><p>Damian continued to watch as Tim knocked on the apartment door. A girl of about thirteen or fourteen years old answered and froze at the sight of Tim. She was clearly quite terrified at seeing a vigilante on her doorstep and, at Tim's insistence, quickly apologized to her little brother and promised not to lock him out again. After giving the teenager a lecture on the dangers of what she did, Tim took Tony to his room and tucked him in bed; then he exited out the window to continue his patrol. </p><p>…Okay, so maybe Damian was a little impressed with Tim on this one occasion. But handling victims was a job the police and other emergency responders could handle. A vigilante's main job was taking down criminals. If Tim had been the one to take on Killer Croc instead of Damian, he would have gotten off with much worse than a broken wrist and busted ribs… Right?</p><p>Damian closed out of Tim's mask feed and comms to pull up the security archive, searching for 'Red Robin' and 'Killer Croc.' He found a video file from last year's Arkham breakout; Damian had been busy helping his father apprehend Bane, so he hadn't really paid attention to what Tim had been doing. Damian skipped through the video, stopping when Tim confronted Croc.</p><p>The fight started off like most fights with Croc do, lots of dodging huge scaly fists and getting in hits to his weak points. Damian tried to ignore how stunning Tim was when he fought, the way his muscles moved, the stretch of his legs. He (mostly) succeeded. </p><p>When Croc knocked Tim’s bo staff out of his hand, Damian scoffed. A fighter should never lose their weapon. Tim was no match to Croc in hand to hand combat. But then - while Damian was still rolling his eyes - Tim scooped up what appeared to be an abandoned car battery and threw it at Killer Croc, hitting him square in the nose. Damian’s jaw dropped. While Croc was dazed, Tim slid past him, grabbed his bo staff, and slammed it right into Croc’s big toe. Croc let out an enraged roar and made a sloppy swipe at Tim, but he dodged easily. </p><p>With just a few more quick, strategic moves, Tim had Croc restrained and in the hands of the police, ready to be taken back to Arkham. Damian noticed, as Tim moved away from the scene, that he was no longer using the hand that Croc had struck. He felt a familiar possessiveness rear its head (someone else had harmed <em>his</em> Tim).</p><p>Damian stopped the video, leaning back in his chair to think. Usually, he would have focused on the fact that Tim had lost his staff in the fight; he would have completely overlooked that Tim had still beaten Croc, brushing it off as just dumb luck. However, since he was trying to be objective, he could see that it did take skill to be able to improvise during a fight like that. Damian could still feel the second hand adrenaline coursing through his veins, thinking about the perfect hit to Croc’s face with the car battery (and some schadenfreude directed at Croc since he was sick of being benched). And to get off with only a single injury? Maybe… maybe Tim <em>was</em> worthy of his place. </p><p>Damian went back to the security archive and chose another video of Tim at random. Then another, and another. With every video that he watched, it became clearer and clearer that Tim was far more skilled than Damian had ever given him credit for.</p><p>"Damn it," Damian whispered, without any heat, pulling at his hair. “I am the Chad in this situation.”</p><p>Where did that leave him? If Tim wasn't a talentless usurper that got lucky, then Damian's whole mental picture of him was completely shattered. Who was Tim Drake really? And did Damian want whoever he was to be his soulmate? He needed to find out, but he didn’t know where to start.</p><p> </p><p>During one of his patrols with Colin, Damian found himself confiding in his best friend. The two of them were taking a break, eating ice cream on a rooftop, having stopped three muggings, two rapes, two robberies, and one attempted murder. </p><p>“What’s up with you?” Colin asked. “You’ve been quiet all night. Normally taking down a murderer leaves you spewing rainbows.”</p><p>“Tt. I do not ‘spew’ rainbows.”</p><p>“Fine. Belch sparkles. Whatever floats your boat.” Colin teased, smiling. </p><p>Damian rolled his eyes, huffing a laugh that undermined his facade of annoyance. He didn’t answer for a minute, listening to the sounds of the city around them. </p><p>“I found my soulmate,” Damian finally said, in a quiet voice. It was almost surreal, for him to admit it to someone else, like speaking a dream to life.</p><p>“Really?” Colin enthused, before sobering a bit at Damian’s sour expression. “You don’t seem too happy about it, is it someone bad?”</p><p>Damian sighed, bracing himself to finally admit it out loud. “It’s Drake," he said, not looking at Colin. "Drake is my soulmate.”</p><p>“Oh… But that’s great!”</p><p>“What?” Damian blurted out, his head jerking in Colin's direction, startled at his enthusiastic response. “How is this great?”</p><p>“Well, I mean… you’ve only had a <em>huge</em> crush on him for years.” Colin said, like Damian was missing the obvious.</p><p>“I most certainly have not!” </p><p>Colin raised an eyebrow. “Are you serious? When we were dating I used to get jealous of the longing looks you gave Tim. I mean, not that I blame you. He is hot, but...” Colin trailed off, eyes widening as he took in Damian’s blank look. “Don’t tell me you didn’t know.”</p><p>Damian shook his head. “I have always hated him.” </p><p>“Well, maybe you should start paying closer attention - to yourself especially. ‘Cause the way you used to look at him was anything but hateful.”</p><p>“I can be attracted to him and still hate him.” Damian pointed out.</p><p>“So, you admit you are attracted to him?” Colin said, smug.</p><p>Damian frowned. He couldn’t believe he fell into that trap. "I <em>hate</em> you."</p><p>Colin laughed. “I still don’t get what the big deal is. You’re attracted to him; he’s your soulmate. Not exactly the worst situation to be in.”</p><p>“You’re forgetting the fact that I tried to <em>kill</em> him.” Damian had never been so glad to have failed at something in his life. Even before he saw Tim’s soulmark, he had come to regret that particular action. “Besides, I’ve realized that I know practically nothing about him. How am I supposed to know if I even <em>want</em> him to be my soulmate? And even if I do, <em>he </em>won’t want to be mine.”</p><p>“Like I said, start paying attention. Get to know him as a soulmate, not as a rival,” Colin advised. “Maybe act a little nicer, too. Make him forget about the whole attempted murder thing.”</p><p>Damian shoved Colin backward onto the rooftop. </p><p>"See, that's exactly what you shouldn't do!" Colin called up at Damian, from where he landed on his back. "You'll never win his heart that way."</p><p> </p><p>Damian did take Colin's advice and started paying attention. Whenever he was in the same vicinity as Tim, he watched him like he’d never seen him before, like Tim was a stranger that he was trying to get to know. Which, at that point, he practically was. For the next couple of weeks, Damian completely redrew his mental picture of Tim from the start. He knew random basic facts about Tim (his favorite bands and movies, what type of clothing he liked to wear, who his friends were, etc.) but he needed more substantial information.</p><p>At first, Damian started noticing little things about him. He noticed that Tim put way too much salt on his food, that he always cracked his knuckles before typing on the keyboard, that he covered his hair with a bandana whenever he was tinkering with anything even vaguely mechanical, that he would deftly spin writing utensils between his fingers when he was deep in thought (Damian always found himself incapable of looking away whenever he witnessed that last one). He filed all these little details away in his mind, to add them to the new mental picture he was drawing.</p><p>The more he paid attention to Tim, the more he learned.</p><p>During one of the occasional family dinners, Damian surreptitiously observed the way Tim interacted with the rest of the family. The way he was polite and respectful of Alfred, even while they bantered lightly at each other. The way Dick had to stop his father and Tim from discussing Cave business at the dinner table. The way Tim and Cassandra interacted through silly facial expressions. The way Jason and Tim could bicker circles around each other, but neither of them seemed to actually be annoyed at the other. </p><p>It was Tim’s interactions with Stephanie that caught Damian’s eye in particular. They seemed to share endless inside jokes with each other, but they were also capable of more serious conversation. Tim’s civilian friend Ives was apparently having another mysterious and concerning problem that Tim was telling Stephanie about. </p><p>Damian was honestly surprised to learn that Tim had been able to keep a casual friendship with a civilian. Usually, most civilian relationships fell by the wayside in their line of work (especially when the civilian wasn’t in the know). Tim had to be quite dedicated to make that relationship work. Granted, Stephanie herself was proof of Tim’s ability to keep relationships despite complicated circumstances. Damian was only vaguely aware of their history, but he knew that she had made some bad decisions that led to Tim getting blown up. It was impressive that Tim was still willing to speak to her after that, let alone still have such a close relationship with her. Damian felt a hopeful fluttering in his chest. If Tim could forgive her for almost getting him killed, then maybe his relationship with Tim wasn’t a complete lost cause. </p><p> </p><p>After Tim and Bruce had wrapped up the case they had been working on together, Tim was no longer staying at the manor. However, he was still there often enough for Damian to run into him from time to time.</p><p>Damian walked into the library one afternoon, intending on drawing in his sketchbook, only to find Tim curled up on one of the armchairs, fast asleep. Damian stopped in his tracks, taking in the scene. On the table in front of Tim there was an old book, his laptop, and a travel mug that probably once contained coffee. Tim was wearing fuzzy plaid pajama pants and a black tank top; his hair was a mussed up bird's nest where it rested against the back of the chair. However, the thing that really stuck out to Damian was the fact that Alfred the Cat was curled up right in Tim's lap, looking like he was right at home. </p><p>Damian stood there, heart pounding, captivated by the sight of his cat and his soulmate curled up cozily together. It felt like a sign. A sign that things with Tim just might work out. The first stirrings of an emotion that he didn’t dare name swelled in his chest. </p><p>As Damian watched, Tim stirred himself awake, petting Alfred when he chirped in protest at being moved. Tim laughed softly, muttering an apology at the cat. Damian stepped further into the room, clearing his throat. </p><p>"Oh, Damian," Tim said, looking up, his voice still rough from sleep. His fingers stilled in Alfred's fur. "Sorry, were you looking for your cat?"</p><p>"He's fine where he is." Damian shrugged, pleased that his voice came out steady. "I was just going to do some sketching. I didn't mean to interrupt your nap."</p><p>"I didn't mean to <em>take</em> a nap," Tim said, looking at Damian a little warily. Like he expected to have to defend himself from an attack. Damian felt guilty in that moment, knowing that Tim had every right to feel that way around him. "But Alfred sat on my lap and I didn't want to get up and disturb him."</p><p>The corner of Damian's lip twitched up. "Understandable."</p><p>There was a heavy moment of silence between the two men, Damian awkwardly scratching an itch on his back, before Alfred the Cat squirmed around in Tim's lap, distracting them. Alfred stretched out on his back, baring his belly at Tim and meowing insistently. Tim huffed out a laugh, obediently scratching at the cat’s belly, making him purr in contentment. </p><p>Damian shook his head at his attention seeking cat. “He’s usually only this demanding with Pennyworth and me.”</p><p>“I think he’s hoping to get something,” Tim said. “He tried to steal my muffin this morning.”</p><p>Damian laughed softly. “Yes, he will do that if you aren’t careful. He will also try to shove his paw in your drink.”</p><p>At Damian’s laugh, Tim had looked at him a little oddly, like he had suddenly sprouted a second head and Tim wanted to examine it. He had stopped petting Alfred for a moment, but the cat wasn’t pleased with that turn of events at all. He got up onto his paws and pushed his face right up against Tim’s, headbutting him in the cheek. Tim and Damian both burst into laughter at that.</p><p>“He certainly belongs to this family,” Tim said, as his laughter died down and he started petting Alfred again. “His solution to not getting what he wants? Headbutt it.”</p><p>“It’s that or he whines until he gets what he wants,” Damian said. “I think Pennyworth spoils him.”</p><p>“Yeah, it couldn’t possibly have anything to do with you feeding him extra scraps of meat like you did at dinner last night.” Tim flashed a teasing smile at Damian.</p><p>“Tt. I don’t know what you mean, Drake.” Damian’s cheeks flushed, at Tim’s teasing or his smile, he didn’t know which.</p><p> </p><p>From that point forward, Damian found it to be increasingly easier and easier to interact with Tim.  His exercise in objectivity made all his old resentments and anger practically disappear. It was nice to talk to Tim now that he had a better understanding of him. He found himself looking forward to it actually. Looking forward to seeing him in the Batcave, to him showing up to family dinner, to Stephanie dragging him along with her and Tim to do stupid things. What he enjoyed most of all, however, was the way Tim gradually lost the wariness he always had around Damian. After a few weeks of positive interactions, Tim no longer seemed defensive or distrustful of Damian. He engaged him in conversation easily, smiled and nodded in greeting, patted him on the back after patrol. </p><p>On one memorable occasion, when the whole family had been working together during a large scale attack on the city, Damian found himself fighting alongside Tim. The two of them were up against a seemingly endless tide of goons. Damian usually teamed up with Colin during these things, but he was stuck over at the orphanage, defending it from attackers. </p><p>If this situation had happened before Damian found out Tim was his soulmate, he probably would have been trying to show Tim up. As it was, he was more focused on taking down the threats as efficiently as possible. </p><p>For the most part, the two of them fought on opposite sides of the street from each other without being directly involved in what the other was doing. As the night progressed later and later, things were going just fine, the goons started to get worn down. However, that changed when a bus load of armed criminals came barreling around the corner, screeching to a halt and shooting everything in sight. Tim and Damian had to jump for cover behind an overturned dumpster. </p><p>“I’m out of Batarangs,” Damian said.</p><p>“Me, too,” Tim said, rifling through his utility belt. He stopped when he came across a bunch of little green pellets, a wicked grin splitting his face. “Robin, I’ve got an idea.”</p><p>“Do tell,” Damian replied, easily crushing the tiny instinctual part of him that protested at following Tim’s lead.</p><p>“Just put on a gas mask and be ready to move when I say,” Tim said, taking aim and throwing the pellets over the top of the dumpster. When they hit the ground, they exploded into transparent green smoke that quickly enveloped the gunners. In seconds, they had all dropped their weapons and bent over, puking their guts out.</p><p>“Now!” Tim shouted. As one, Tim and Damian descended on the gunners, who were disoriented, but still trying to put up a fight.</p><p>Fighting alongside Tim was something Damian had always avoided in the past, certain that Tim would slow him down. This felt natural, though. Tim fought differently than Bruce or Dick or Colin, but his movements were so smooth and precise that it was easy to fall in step with. In no time at all, the two of them had the goons tied up nice and tight for the GCPD.</p><p>“That went surprisingly well,” Damian said. </p><p>“Puker caps! Work every time!” Tim said, grinning.</p><p>“Not exactly the most pleasant of tools, but effective nonetheless.” Damian conceded.</p><p>The rest of the night went by with no major issues. Tim even shouted a quick ‘nice one Robin’ at one point, when Damian took out three of the last remaining combatants in one fell swoop. He would never admit to how much that simple approval from Tim made his stomach flutter.</p><p> </p><p>The more Damian got to know Tim, the more he came to see him as his soulmate. With every look, every word, every minuscule touch, his desire for Tim was growing. With that desire, however, came a small problem. He had begun to notice a slight itch on his back, where his soulmark was. He didn’t think much of it at first, but as time went by the itch got stronger and stronger. No amount of aloe or anti-itch cream made any difference to it.</p><p>Damian had heard about this kind of ailment before. When someone had found their soulmate but hadn’t acknowledged it yet, their soulmark would become more and more painful until they finally did.</p><p>Damian’s soulmark was starting to burn with pain; it was difficult not to let it show around his family. </p><p>He needed to tell Tim they were soulmates before it became too unbearable, but he wanted to pick the perfect moment. Otherwise, he feared, it might all blow up in his face. A few weeks of civil interactions were not going to be enough for Tim to accept them as soulmates.</p><p>However, when Damian found out that Tim was due to return to the Titans after a break from them, he couldn’t wait anymore. The thought of Tim being so far away while Damian literally burned for him was too much for Damian to bear. He’d have to tell Tim and hope for the best. </p><p>The day before Tim was meant to leave for the Titans, Damian dropped by Tim’s theater house to talk to him. He had spent more time than he would ever admit dithering over what to wear. It had to be something nice enough to give off a good impression, but casual enough to not look like Damian was trying too hard. Eventually, he settled on a nice pair of dark grey jeans, a black v-neck t-shirt that hugged his muscles, and a soft green cardigan. His undercut was freshly buzzed and the rest of his hair perfectly tousled (he also didn’t want to admit to how long he spent doing <em>that</em>). He even called upon some of the manners Alfred had tried so hard to beat into him and politely knocked on Tim’s front door, instead of just crawling in the window. </p><p>“Hey, Damian,” Tim said with a smile when he answered the door. Not even a bit of suspicion or wariness clouding his beautiful features, to Damian's sheer joy. "Come in."</p><p>As Tim turned around to lead him into the house, Damian finally noticed what he was wearing. Or rather what he wasn’t wearing. Tim was in nothing but a tank top and a pair of incredibly short shorts. Damian had to drag his eyes up and away from Tim’s bare calves to cool the blood pulsing in his veins. His gaze settled on the back of Tim’s head instead, focusing on the ponytail Tim had pulled his hair into. Damian swallowed, hard, and found himself asking, “Do you always answer the door half dressed?”</p><p>Tim laughed. “I looked at the security feed. I would have put on pants if I had to.”</p><p>Damian shook his head. “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”</p><p>“Not really, I’ve got a bit of time before I have to leave.” Tim gave him a contemplative look. “You don’t happen to like baseball, do you?”</p><p>"Not particularly," Damian said. “Why?”</p><p>“‘Cause I was gonna see a game with Dick tonight before I left. He had to bail last minute, though, so I have an extra ticket that’s just gonna go to waste. But if you don’t want to go...”</p><p>“Well," Damian said, shrugging, "I suppose if it’s your treat, I could be convinced.”</p><p>“Cool,” Tim laughed, making Damian's heart flip at the sound. “So what brings you all the way out here, anyway?”</p><p>“I had something I wanted to discuss with you.”</p><p>Tim gave Damian a curious look. "Okay, just let me get dressed real quick." He turned and headed into his bedroom. "Make yourself at home."</p><p>Damian sat down on Tim's sofa and looked around the room, trying to distract himself from the itch in his back that had intensified when Tim walked away. There were framed photographs everywhere, on the walls, on the side tables, on the bookshelves. Quite a few of them were shots of Gotham, Damian recognized. Others looked to be pictures of various family members: Bruce, Alfred, Dick, etc. Damian also recognized one of the photos as Tim's friend, Ives. Two of the pictures gave him pause, however. He stood up and walked over to the shelf they were on to get a better look at them; both pictures had the same older man in them, but two different women. </p><p>"My parents," Tim said. Damian looked over his shoulder to see Tim standing in the doorway. His hair had been freed from its tie, the inky black locks now framing his face. He had changed into a black and white raglan shirt with ‘Gotham Knights’ written across it, and a pair of black jeans with a hole in one knee so big that the top of his thigh was peeking out. Damian had never thought ripped jeans could be attractive before, but there was a first time for everything. “My mom, Janet, is on the right. My step-mom, Dana, is on the left.”</p><p>Damian turned his gaze back to the photos. “Your father remarried?”</p><p>“Yeah. Not very common, especially since he and my mother were soulmates. But after she died, he met Dana. Her soulmate had also passed away, so I guess they bonded because of that.”</p><p>"I see," Damian nodded. "Well… on the subject of soulmates, that kind of brings me to what I wanted to discuss with you,” he said. At Tim’s raised eyebrow, he launched into an explanation. As Damian told Tim about their matching soulmarks, the burning pain in his back receded, finally giving him some relief.</p><p>Tim's reaction did not.</p><p>“Wait, so <em>that's</em> why you've been tolerable lately? You only respect me <em>now </em>because you found out we’re soulmates and suddenly I have <em>worth </em>to you?” Tim said incredulously, looking furious. “Go fuck yourself.” Tim turned and walked out of the room.</p><p>Damian's eyes widened and he rushed into the hallway after Tim. "What? No, that's not what I-" </p><p>"Oh really?” Tim scoffed, rounding on Damian. “It’s only now that you’ve found out we're soulmates that suddenly you’ve changed your attitude. We’ve known each other for almost a decade, Damian. In all that time you have <em>never</em> made any attempt at being civil until now.” </p><p>“Okay, I see how that might seem suspicious,” Damian conceded. He knew he had to tread carefully, lest he ruin his chances. Tim wouldn’t appreciate being played with, so honesty was the best way to go. “I swear, it’s not just because you are my soulmate. That certainly was the catalyst for my change in opinion but, soulmate or not, I have come to realize that I had treated you unfairly in the past. I know you have no reason to believe me or trust me, but I would like to start our relationship over. If you are willing.”</p><p>Tim gave Damian a long, searching look, dissecting him for any sign of dishonesty. Damian fought down a shiver at the intensity in his deep blue eyes. “You’re right. I don’t have a reason to trust you. Just how do I know that your resolve to turn over a new leaf will last? Especially if I don't give you what you want?”</p><p>Damian's shoulders dropped. “There is no guarantee that I can give you other than to say that I have every intention of making our relationship a positive one. I <em>want </em>this to work.” Damian said, earnestly. “And if you would rather our relationship remain platonic, I will respect that. Either way, I hope to maintain a friendship with you.”</p><p>Tim sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I dunno, Damian. We have a lot of bad history,” he said, after a moment of thought, humming in consideration. “Let's just focus on being friends, if you think you can do that."</p><p>“I can,” Damian said, with conviction. Though, even having known it was likely that Tim might not be receptive, he still had to tamp down a painful rush of disappointment. At least he had not been thrown out on his face, that was something. </p><p>“Good.”</p><p>“So, friend, am I still invited to this baseball game, or would you rather I give you some space?”</p><p>Tim laughed. “You’re still invited. Don’t call me ‘friend’ though. It makes you sound like an evil villain pretending not to be evil.”</p><p>Damian snorted a laugh. “Duly noted, I will try not to pull a Saruman.”</p><p>Tim shook his head in amusement. “C'mon, I'll drive. Let’s go watch the Knights lose,” he said, leading Damian over to the garage.</p><p>Damian furrowed his brow, following after Tim. "I thought you supported them?"</p><p>"I do, but I'm also a realist. They haven't won in years." Tim said as he settled into the driver's seat of his car.</p><p>This was the first time it was just Damian and Tim doing a normal, casual activity together, without anyone else from the family. While the baseball game itself wasn’t particularly interesting to Damian (he couldn’t care less which team hit a ball with a stick better than the other), Tim seemed to enjoy it and that was enough for him. He was rather distracted, anyway, by Tim's proximity. He was acutely aware of how close he and Tim were sitting, thighs pressed together in what passed for seating at Knights Stadium. To keep from embarrassing himself, he asked Tim questions about the game. Tim seemed more than happy to go on long rambling explanations that kept Damian focused on something other than Tim’s body heat.</p><p>The game actually turned out to be a rather close one. It wasn’t until the last inning that the Gotham Knights finally pulled ahead and won the game.</p><p>"They won! They actually won, Damian!" Tim shouted, turning to him and, to Damian's surprise, throwing his arms around him in a strong embrace. Damian froze for a second, before returning the hug. When Tim pulled away, not seeming to have realized what he’d just done, Damian had to stop himself from clinging tighter. Tim was smiling so wide the Joker would have been jealous. "Dick is going to be so disappointed he missed this."</p><p>"You'll just have to make sure to rub it in his face," Damian said, conspiratorially. “Make him feel even worse about ditching you.”</p><p>Tim smirked at that, a mischievous glint in his eye. Then he beckoned Damian to make their way out of the stands. The ride back to Tim’s apartment was mostly quiet - a surprisingly comfortable, companionable type of quiet, not awkward like Damian might have feared. Damian had never been a big fan of sitting in the passenger seat rather than the driver’s seat, but he found he didn’t mind so much if Tim was the one driving.</p><p>“Are you patrolling tonight?” Damian asked, when they arrived back at Tim’s house.</p><p>“Yup,” Tim said, hanging his keys on a hook next to the garage door. “Patrol tonight with Steph, unless she bails on me, too. Then a meeting about the Neon Knights first thing tomorrow morning. I leave for the Titans immediately after that.”</p><p>“You probably haven’t packed yet, have you?”</p><p>Tim laughed. “Nope.”</p><p>“I’ll let you get to it then. Thank you for inviting me to the game. I enjoyed myself.”</p><p>“No problem. I’ll make a baseball fan out of you yet.” Tim said, walking Damian out of the house.</p><p>Damian wished Tim a good night and hopped on his bike. He headed back to the Manor so that he could get ready for his own patrol. The night had gone far better than he had feared. Tim didn’t immediately reject him, or react with disgust. Unfortunately, he also didn’t react with much enthusiasm either. He seemed, at best, ambivalent. </p><p>Though… Tim <em>had</em> given him a hug, so maybe all wasn’t lost. Damian had never hugged Tim before. He found himself still thinking about it hours later when he was all geared up on patrol with Colin. He was pretty sure that Colin was completely aware of his preoccupation. His suspicion was proven correct when the night had slowed down and they took a break on a rooftop. </p><p>“Alright, what’s your deal this time? Is it about Tim?” Colin asked, not pulling any punches. And his punches were legendary. </p><p>Damian groaned and sprawled dramatically over a gargoyle, proceeding to explain what had happened earlier that day, as well as his concerns that Tim would never want to be more than friends. Colin just laughed at him. </p><p>"Give him a little time to get used to the idea," Colin said. "He just needs some time to think."</p><p>"And what if he comes to the conclusion that he doesn't want anything to do with me?"</p><p>"If you continue to not be an asshole, I'm sure he won't. Don't worry. You'll be sucking his dick in no time."</p><p>"<em>Colin</em>!" Damian hissed, sitting up so fast to glare at his friend that he almost lost his balance and fell off the gargoyle.</p><p>"Don't act like you're shy. I know you want to,” Colin said, grinning.</p><p>“Have I told you lately that I hate you?” Damian didn’t know why he bothered talking to Colin about this (it was because his only other options were family members and… no, just no) so he quickly changed the subject. Colin wasn’t fooled, but let him do it anyway to Damian’s relief.</p><p> </p><p>Damian spent the entire weekend that Tim was away stressing about the coming Monday. He had decided to wait until then to try and message Tim again, wanting to give him some space and knowing that he would be too busy to talk anyway. Unfortunately, that meant Damian had plenty of time for doubt to creep in, to overthink everything (all the while cursing himself for acting like a love struck fool). He wasn’t used to this kind of uncertainty, but he also had never wanted anything as badly as he wanted Tim.</p><p>When Monday finally came around, Damian was disappointed to find that Tim had gotten sucked into a complex case and wouldn’t be home for a couple more days. He grit his teeth together in frustration as he read the text message from Tim, but when another message popped up asking if he wanted to get lunch when Tim finally did get back, Damian relaxed. He, perhaps, responded affirmatively too fast as Tim sent a laughing emoji back along with a thumbs up.</p><p>Such a simplistic form of communication shouldn’t have made his heart stutter, but it did.</p><p>The proposed lunch turned into more of a late lunch/early dinner situation. Damian met Tim at a hole in the wall restaurant in Little Odessa, run by a friendly family. They were the only two people in the place, so it was surprisingly comfortable and relaxing - made even better by how good the food was. Damian complimented Tim on his choice.</p><p>“I’ll have to tell Ives you think so,” Tim commented, taking a sip of his drink. “He got me hooked on this place after all.”</p><p>“Wasn’t he the one you and Brown were talking about the other day?” Damian asked. “He was having some sort of weird problem?”</p><p>Tim huffed at that. “He’s <em>always</em> having mysterious problems. Luckily, it was nothing serious this time. Turns out he was just wrapped up in a new Star Wars video game. That’s why he hadn’t answered anyone’s messages for several days.”</p><p>Damian shook his head, fondness creeping into his voice. “Only you would form a friendship with someone even nerdier than you are.”</p><p>“Well, you’re my friend, now. So what does that say about you?”</p><p>Damian shrugged. “That I am incredibly lucky,” he said, trying to be sarcastic, but he came across more sincere than he wanted. He blushed and looked away.</p><p>Tim blinked, then laughed. “Smooth, Damian. Very smooth.”</p><p>"Shut up."</p><p>"Don't be embarrassed. It's good that you want to be friends. That you're trying. I appreciate it."</p><p>"I just-" Damian paused, gathering his thoughts. "I am truly sorry for how I used to treat you. And I <em>am </em>lucky that you didn't throw me out of your house when you could have."</p><p>Tim looked shocked for a moment, then smiled. "Well, at least someone in this family knows how to apologize. Thank you. The past is behind us, let's focus on the present."</p><p>From then on, Tim and Damian began to spend more time together than they ever had before. Both on and off patrol, with others around or just the two of them. Tim avoided talking about the soulmate thing and Damian made sure to follow his lead. It helped that they talked about pretty much everything else. They talked about their friends, family, Gotham, and the past, present, future. Damian opened up to Tim in ways he never had to another person before, not even Colin. Tim made it easy. He never judged him, even when he caught him in a rare… less than graceful moment. </p><p>Damian had been patrolling alone near Grant Park when he had heard the unmistakable sound of an animal in distress. Following the sounds of yowling and barking into the park, Damian witnessed an orange cat run up a tree, pursued by what he had thought was a dog from the barking. As it turned out, he had <em>almost </em>been right. Instead of a normal canine, it was a hound that appeared to be made entirely out of shadow and smoke. </p><p>Pretty standard for Gotham.</p><p>Damian reached into his utility belt for his flashlight, hoping that it would dispel the creature long enough for Damian to get the cat to safety. The moment he shined the light on the dog, it disappeared, leaving only a wisp of smoke behind. Grateful for his luck, Damian quickly scaled the tree that the cat had disappeared into. It took him a moment to find it; in its fear the cat had climbed as high as it could reach, up into the thinner top branches. </p><p>"Here kitty kitty," Damian called, trying to coax it down to a stronger branch. "Come on, the mean ol' dog is gone."</p><p>As he reached up he was rewarded with a swipe of claws and an angry hiss. </p><p>"Being Robin is such a thankless job sometimes, huh?"</p><p>Damian almost startled at the voice coming from below him. He looked down to see Tim leaning against the next tree in his Red Robin suit, watching Damian struggle with the cat. His mouth was quirked into a warm, fond smile, lighting up his face. Damian had seen Tim smile before but never like this, like he was looking at something precious. His heart nearly stopped when he realized it was directed at him.</p><p>"Well, it can't always consist of fighting Bane or The Joker." Damian replied, when his heart started again. "What are you doing here?"</p><p>"Would you believe looking for that exact cat?" Tim said, looking up into the tree. "Come down, Teekl. Let the nice Robin get you out of there."</p><p>At Tim's words, the cat - Teekl - poked its head out from the branches to give Damian the most skeptical look he’d ever seen a cat give. Whatever Teekl was looking for, it seemed to have found, because it jumped down on the branch next to Damian and settled into his arms like that was where it had wanted to be all along. </p><p>“Is this… your cat?” Damian asked, uncertainly, when he was back down on the ground. He was pretty sure he would have known if Tim had a pet, but maybe not.</p><p>“Nah,” Tim said, stepping close to Damian and scratching at the underside of Teekl’s chin. “He’s Klarion’s partner. They got separated and he asked me for help again.”</p><p>“Again?”</p><p>“Yeah, this isn’t the first time something like this has happened. Luckily, there seems to be no Judgement Beast around this time.”</p><p>Damian raised an eyebrow. “I’m sensing there’s a story here.”</p><p>“It’s a long one.” Tim warned, but looked amused.</p><p>“It’s a slow night."</p><p>Damian ended up following Tim back to his house, where Klarion was waiting to be reunited with Teekl. On the way, Tim regaled him with the story of the Judgement Beast. Damian listened intently, enrapt at Tim's storytelling. </p><p> </p><p>Later that night, after Klarion had collected Teekl and bid them adieu, it was just the two of them, sitting together on Tim's couch. That was when Tim finally brought up their soulmarks again. </p><p>Tim had finished his story about the Judgement Beast and moved on to telling other stories from his time as Robin. Damian responded with stories of his own, about some of his exploits with Colin. When there was a comfortable lull in the conversation, Tim gave Damian a thoughtful look. </p><p>“Take off your shirt.”</p><p>Damian blinked, certain he heard that wrong. “Uh, what?”</p><p>“Take off your shirt, let me see your back.”</p><p>“Oh.” Damian said, heart pounding. Tim wanted to see his Dragonfly; his soulmate was finally going to see his soulmark. This wasn’t exactly how he imagined this moment would go, but it was no less intense for it. He hesitated for just a moment, before taking a deep breath and pulling his shirt off over his head.</p><p>When he stood up to turn and show his back to Tim, he heard the sharp intake of breath.</p><p>"I knew you weren't lying," Tim said softly, reaching out to run his fingertips along the mark. "You always cared way too much about your soulmark to lie about it. But man… believing and seeing are two completely different things." </p><p>"I didn't believe it at first myself, after I saw yours,” Damian said, softly, his back muscles trembling under Tim’s gentle touch. “I thought it was some sort of cosmic mistake, but I soon realized how wrong I was."</p><p>Tim pulled his fingers away from Damian’s soulmark, allowing him to put his shirt back on and sit back down on the sofa. "What made you realize?"</p><p>"That day you fell asleep in the library with my cat on your lap. When I walked in and saw that, I just fell in-" Damian trailed off, looking away and blushing.</p><p>Tim grasped Damian's chin, turning his head to look him in the eye again, his gaze blazing hot. "Say it."</p><p>Damian swallowed past a lump in his throat. "I fell in love with you."</p><p>Damian had barely finished speaking before Tim was pulling him into a kiss. The first press of their lips sent a rush of sensation through his core. Never before had he ever felt anything like it, like the world had stopped around them. Like the only thing that existed was the two of them, connected as one through their kiss.  The world around them disappeared, the sofa, the walls, everything dissolved into nothing, leaving the two of them floating in air. That one kiss lasted only moments, but it felt like a lifetime had passed when they pulled apart. The world reformed itself.</p><p>“Tim,” Damian breathed, eyes fluttering open to look at him. He had heard that the first kiss with a soulmate was intense, but nothing had prepared him for the reality. </p><p>"Damian," Tim responded with a smile. </p><p>Damian shivered at the way Tim (his <em>soulmate</em>) said his name. It sounded like acceptance. Damian leaned up and Tim met him in another kiss. Not quite as intense as the first, but just as soul-searing.</p><p>That one kiss turned into another, then another before they found their way into the bedroom where all of Damian's dreams came true (and Colin was proven right). </p><p> </p><p>Damian was practically walking on air when he returned to the Manor. For the first time since he accidentally saw the mark on Tim's back, he felt like the future looked promising. As caught up in his happiness as he was, he almost ran into Alfred when he entered the kitchen.</p><p>“You had a pleasant evening, I take it Master Damian?”</p><p>“Yes, Pennyworth. It was-” Damian trailed off, blindsided by a sudden realization: Alfred knew what his soulmark looked like. He also had to know what Tim's looked like. He turned an accusing look on Alfred. “You knew.”</p><p>Alfred raised an eyebrow. “I beg your pardon?”</p><p>“You knew all along about Tim and I.”</p><p>Alfred looked confused for a moment, before comprehension dawned on his face. “Ah. You have found out, then?”</p><p>Damian nodded. "Does my father know?" </p><p>"He does." </p><p>“Well, then why didn’t either of you say anything?”</p><p>“Master Damian, you were always very adamant about finding your soulmate in the traditional sense. It was not our place to take that decision from you. It was something you needed to find out for yourself.”</p><p>That made Damian pause in thought. He mostly likely <em>would</em> have reacted much worse if he had not been able to accept it at his own pace, if Alfred or his father had told him, instead of finding out for himself. “You’re right," he conceded. "It was probably for the best that I found out on my own.”</p><p>“I take it things are working out for you two.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Damian said, smiling softly, remembering the feeling of Tim pressed up against him. The way everything clicked into place with their first kiss. The way the older man smiled at him now. “I think they just might be.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Kudos and comments are always appreciated! </p><p>I started this fic just over a year ago and more than half of that time it was rotting away, untouched, in my WIP folder. I had almost given up on ever finishing it when I suddenly realized what I was doing wrong with it and how I could fix it. It's good to know that it is possible to set a story aside and come back to it later with a clear head and new ideas. I'm so glad it's finally done! Hope you enjoy!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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